


Teach Me

by Inalandofmythandtimeofmagic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Family, Fighting, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inalandofmythandtimeofmagic/pseuds/Inalandofmythandtimeofmagic
Summary: A little Fluff for your reading pleasure





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I don not own any rights to Harry Potter or any of it's Characters.

She was yelling again, that happened a lot. Sure opposites attract, but that doesn't mean they get along all of the time. Hermione wanted to talk philosophy, or tell him all the meaningful insights her latest reading had provided her with. He tried to keep up with her, he really did, but all he wanted to do was wrestle with Hugo and help Rose perfect her mud pies, then turn his brain off and let all the stress of work just melt away with a mug of Butterbeer. 

He tries to listen, he tries so hard, until he hits that point where he just can’t anymore.Then he would snap, and sneer a sarcastic comment her way, and she would huff and hurl the same old insults; she should have married someone who appreciated her brain, why did he have to be so rude, so ignorant, so emotionally stunted.

 

He would reply that; yes, she should have, maybe she should just leave, go find some professor somewhere. 

 

At least he’d be there and not running after lunatics. 

 

And he’d stop, I come home, I’ll always come home, and she’d sniff and storm off, to one of her books for sure. 

 

Flopping down on the sofa, Ron scrubbed his hand over his face. He looked at his now cool mug in disgust. He was terrified, afraid that he would come home one day and she’d be gone. She was so much better than him on so many levels. He smiled, remembering her teaching him to play the piano at the Black house. 

 

“Teach me.” he had said to her, not because he’d had a burning desire to learn, but because she loved it and he loved her and it was a way for him to be close to her and to show her that he cared. Ron smiled again, he knew how to fix this. He climbed up the stairs to the landing window seat. He had built bookshelves there, and layered it with cushions and sheer curtains. As expected Hermione was curled up with a copy of The Art of Virtue by Benjamin Franklin. 

 

“Really Hermione? You couldn’t at least have picked a wizarding smart dude?” that earned him at least a small smile. 

 

“Hey there’s a lot you can learn from Muggles.” 

 

“You sound like my Dad.” he laughed, watching her try not to. When they finally stopped giggling he gently pulled the book from her hands, “Teach me” 

 

The next day Hermione was yelling again, this time at Rose who had ruined yet another set of clothes with mud. He fond Rose in the garden, tucked under the leaves of some something or the other Nevile had given them. He pulled her onto his lap, wiping away her tears. 

 

“Why does she get so mad?” Rose asked in a watery voice, “She can just fix it with magic.”

 

“Because Rose, we want you to learn that not everything should be solved that way. We want you to learn about hard work and respect. How about this, if you can make me a mud pie without getting any mud on your clothes you can have extra dessert tonight.” She grinned at him and bounced off his lap. Ron stood and made his way through the gate were Hermione stood waiting for him. 

 

“Am I a horrible Mom?” she asked him.

 

“Of course not! You’re the best!”

 

“They love you,”

 

“They love you too, your inner child is rare but we see it every once in awhile.” She stared up at him for a long moment, “Teach me.”

 

A grin split his face like it hadn’t in awhile, he took her face in his hands, thumbs stroking over her cheekbones, and kissed her, ’till he heard his son pretend to retch. The kiss dissolved into laughter and Rose wrapped her arms around her mother's leg.

 

“Well,” Ron said looking at his wife, “step one.” he pulled on her hair tie, letting the tight bun explode in all its frizzy glory. “Rose dear can you help me with step two?” 

 

Rose handed her father a beautifully crafted mud pie, “Ronald Bilius Weasley don’t you dare.” As one might imagine the all out war that ensued would never be forgotten, and Ron knew two words that could end any argument, “Teach me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you have anything to say leave it in the comments!


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